


The Aftermath of a JFK House Party

by bean_bitch153



Category: Clone High
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Crying, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, House Party, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Men Crying, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bean_bitch153/pseuds/bean_bitch153
Summary: Some jfk × gandhi after a house party. The rest of the gang is here too I guess. But yeah mostly fluff,,  mostly..It's my first fic idk what's going on.. please be nice.
Relationships: Cleopatra & Abraham Lincoln (Clone High), Gandhi & JFK (Clone High), Gandhi/JFK (Clone High), JFK & Ponce "Poncey" de León (Clone High), Jfk/Gandhi
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh btw! Jfk/Ponce and Jfk/Cleo are just mentioned as relationships, Ponce is dead in this sorry.

JFK'S POINT OF VEIW*  
(...) = Jfks thoughts

Bright light comes into view as my eyelids slowly raise up and down, attempting to bring myself into consciousness. My ears pick up a loud voice "Helloo" "DudE??" A familiar face stares at me, Gandhi. I let out a tired sigh, it's a rude awakening but nevertheless I couldn't help but smile looking at the perfect face in front of me. -"man you must really be out of it, looking at me like that," Ghandi says blushing. He moves closer to me on the couch, pretending to make room for Joan who takes a seat next to him.  
  
"For real though, you good?" He asks wrapping his arm around my shoulder. Well kinda, he's so small that his hand barely reaches the other side of my red shirt. (it's cute really) To be honest I haven't still fully processed where I am but when my vision finishes adjusting to the light I realize I was in my basement. Memories of partying return to me and unfortunately the smell of well, teens, return as well. Joan looks over at me concerned, she adds context to Gandhi's question, "Yeah you had a lot to drink and then passed out on the couch."  
  
"Heh I'm finee. (a lie) Must of been a good uh party then huh. Where's er everyone else??" It's still a blur but I remember a booming party with practically the entire school crammed into my house. Just a typical weekend I suppose. The party was a alive but now? It's well uh more of a rotting corpse. The quiet is a stark contrast from the ear ringing music of the party not to long ago. Besides the occasional sound of Abe and Cleo smacking lips, a ding or two from Joans phone, and the tapping from Gandhi's constant figiting you could hear a pen drop now. Joan broke the silence to awnser my question, "You kinda ran out of food? Edible food anyway. Besides it was getting late so everyone left." (We ran out of edible food?? What the hell does that mean) I turned my gaze up towards the clock on my wall. The glass case was broken, most likely by a party goer, but the time read 1am. Not to late but late enough when there's not food. I was somewhat comforted that Joan, Abe, Cleo, and Gandhi decided to stay but confused why everyone else left. (was I not fun enough?)  
  
  
I shook off the thought and focused on the food aspect of course. I was still confused on what Joan meant but just assumed we ran out. "Mm fucK I thought I er told someone to order more pizza" I said, rubbing my temple in an attempt to soothe my pounding head ache. I look up from my hands to see boxes of pizza covered in throw up sitting on the coffee table in front of me. "uh nevermind" (I don't know if I'd feel better or worse if I knew whether it was my own or someone else's puke) I was tempted to push the first two boxes aside and just eat the less barf covered pizza below but Gandhi places a hand on mine. "Dude....grab me a peice too."  
  
Joan quickly snaps back apon hearing that, "Gandhi, that's fucking disgusting." Before she could say anything else I slide the first two boxes of pizza away and after a quick inspection, grab two slices from the third box. (Maybe barf pizza will sober me up) I hand the second slice to Gandhi and we do a little cheers motion before chowing down on a luke warm slice. I look at him with a big grin after finishing my peice before him. "Whattt you always win!" He whines, nudging his shoulder against mine as his grining mouth finishes eating a mouthful of, probably gross, pizza. Joan gives a knowing smile, "You know, you two are a bad influence on eachother."  
  
"Whatever you're just er uh jealouss!" I say grabbing Gandhi from his seat and placing him on my lap. (Why does he have to fit so perfectly) I look to make sure Abe and Cleo are preoccupied before pecking a squirming Gandhi on the cheek. He blushes even more than he did when I picked him up. My stomach forms knots feeling his body squirm on my crotch and legs. He can never sit still but judging by his snickering I have a hunch it's on purpose. (Fuck, I could just kiss him again and again and agai-) Joan must of noticed me blush because she raises her eyebrow and grins. I give her a glare. Gandhi settles down a bit and leans his small frame back onto my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.   
We stay there for a while. Leaving me to sit on the mix of thoughts flowing through my hungover, horny teen mind. In typical Gandhi fashion he breaks the quiet and yells "Who wants some weeeed?!". In an instant almost everyone perks up at even the mention of it. I quickly remove my hands around his waist but it's to late to move him. Cleo and Abe look up and give me a weird look apon noticing that shortstack is sitting in my lap. Thankfully before anyone can respond to Gandhi's question (or their own concerns) he gets up and says "heh no worries I get it!"


	2. The Unnecessarily Long Journey for Weed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandhi and Jfk get a little destracted trying to retrive weed for the gang (joan, abe, and cleo).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: more swearing in this chapter I guess?? Also a kiss scene for some fluff

My ass is already half way off the couch before I realize I probably need an excuse. Don't wanna get anymore weird looks from Abe (I swear he needs to mind his mf business before I sock em) "I'll er uh help.. ?" (really I couldn't of come up anything better? The fuck would Gandhi need help with??) "find the weed,, uh yeah that dummy could never er uh find my stash" (yep sure we'll go with that and it's definitely not because this has been my only chance to get some privacy with him all night). 

"Um ok.?" Abe says confused, but he doesn't seem to care enough to actually question my decisions (thank god). Joan makes small talk with Abe and Cleo while I hop off the couch and speed my way upstairs with some skip in my step. A smile forms on my face and I quicken my pace when I hear Gandhi reach the top of the staircase. 

"Heheheh" he giggles, slowly opens the basement door, then proceeds to full on sprint throughout my kitchen and around the island. I run after him. Gandhi only stops for a moment to make eye contact with me. His stance is wide and his body frozen in place. Our smiles drop and we look into eachothers eyes with a dead serious expression. I quietly shut the door behind me and give Gandhi a flirtatious look with a raise of my eyebrow. Just like that his serious face turns red. "Oh you're on shortstack" I say. My words ignited a competitive side in him and he was sent running three times faster than before. 

It might've been the pizza or the fact that I hadn't gotten up from my seat in hours but for once it seemed like he had a chance of actually beating me at something, other than Mario. On his way to my bedroom he ran through the kitchen, almost reaching the staircase as I chased behind. But unluckily for him before he could reach the stairs he lost his footing while trying to slide into a sharp turn. Suddenly, Gandhi started to slip backwards. Time seemed to slow as a protective switch in my brain was flipped. (I can't let him get hurt) With a rush of adrenaline, I caught up to him just in time, reaching my arms out, and managing to catch him. One hand of mine gentally covered his small head, keeping it from hitting the ground. My other hand grasped back of Gandhi's thigh (perfect. Right near his ass as if this could be anymore embarrassing). 

We sat there for a moment catching our breaths, letting our heart rates calm as much as possible. We're so close I can hear his panting breath and beating heart. So close to eachother yet not close enough. My eyes met Gandhi's and I could see his face relax for a moment. My eyes shift to his lips, normally I would've kissed someone already but I hesitate for a moment (ughh just kiss him already! he's no different than a random broad... okay that's a lie). I can feel my face burn up and I see Gandhi red as ever with embarrassment, "heh good catch man,,, th-" he stops talking when I pull his head closer to mine. 

I take a deep breath, and whisper, "can I er uh kiss you?" Just when I thought Gandhi couldn't blush anymore he proves me wrong and vigorously nods "ye-ah please, do." That's all I need before leaning in, closing my eyes, and letting my lips meet his. It's gental, warm and as smooth as honey. It's a different kind of kiss. Not because Gandhi is some kind of super kissing machine (he's definately not as experienced as his braging in the lockeroom claim himself to be). Hell, our first kiss was a complete mess, and not the hot kind either. This kid never fails to make me flustered and he doesn't even know it. We've been dating for a while, normally I've already fucked someone after 2 weeks but this, this was the first time we've kissed with tongue and oh god it was heavenly. 

The little moan Gandhi made as when I slip my tongue past his lips. The closeness of his body against me as I pull him towards my waist, it was gentle, he made my heart skip a beat (he always does).The moments I shared with Cleo were hungry and rough which was _hot_ , but granted this warmth in my heart I felt now was like something I've only felt once before... ponce. Cleo and I felt small waves of this but with Gandhi, kissing him now, holding him close, it was a tsunami of..l-love. (Fuck.) 

I'm afraid of it. Araid of the butterflies I get in my stomach when Gandhi whines as I squeeze his thigh. Shit, everytime he looks at me and smiles my heart skips. I can't let this turn out like me and Cleo did. Hope to god that it doesn't turn out like me and Ponce (I can't go through that, not again). All I can do is hope for the best and enjoy this amazing moment with my boyfriend, Gandhi. I still can't believe I can call him that. _My_ boyfriend Gandhi.

I smile against his lips and pull away so we can catch our breaths. I take in a moment to stare at his pretty boy face of course. Right on cue Gandhi notices, becoming flustered. "That was- That was fucking awesome but uh you can put me down." I hadn't even realized I was practically carrying him off the ground but instead of putting him down I simply sling the small man over my shoulders and start walking up the stairs. Gandhi squirms and wiggles and laughs but my strength keeps him from escaping. "Hmmm I uh don't think I can trust you after that little er fall over there." He continues to protest but after a few steps upstairs he goes limp in defeat. "Come on now let's get that er uh weed before anyone notices we've been gone for like 3 er uh minutes." Gandhi protests, "Hey that wasn't my fault!.. entirely." I open my bedroom door not letting go of him (I never wanna let go). "Whatever goofball," I sigh, grinning ear to ear treasuring the moment. The tsunami of love. (god so fucking cheesy)... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect people to read this shit but thank you so much!!
> 
> Btw I usually post and then edit mistakes or add on later so hopefully all mistakes will be fixed a couple days after the 2nd chap!


	3. The Even Longer Journey for Weed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they're still trying to ge the weed but they're making progress! That is until Jfk descovers a new kink?!?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: this chapter has a bit more sensual kinda stuff so be prepared. Nothin explicit but some mature content folks.
> 
> Also hopefully my writing is a bit better cus ngl first 2 are NOT my best

I step into the mess I call my bedroom. It's covered in posters of random chicks I jerk off to and football players I _really_ jerk it to. I place Gandhi on my mattress where my sheets are strewn about. He positions himself on my bed, sitting criss cross applesauce, and drumming his fingers on his knees to an unknown beat. My feet dance around stains and crushed cans laying on the carpet on my way to desk. Some of the mess is from the the party earlier but if I'm being honest it's mostly my own fault. Although, my dads did tell me to clean my room before they went out of town though I ignored their requests, of course. I figit with my sweater regretting my past decision not to clean. "Damn sorry for the er uh mess" I apologize to Gandhi, my hand rubbing the back of my neck, "I usually deep clean before you come over heh." I reach my wooden desk and bend over to wrap my hand around the bottom drawers knob. After some twisting and turning, the old wood groans and pulls open. As I rumble through the drawer I hear Gandhi's voice behind me. 

"Aw you clean for lil ol' me? You know you don't have to do that."   
  
(lil' ol' me?? what the fuck is he on about) "Uhh yeah I guess, but-"   
  
"Thank god you do though, this room smells like teen ass and Axe body spray had a child without it." Gandhi says in a monotone voice. He walks towards me, ignoring the cans scattered across the ground. I'm not caught off guard by the statement, I mean its Ghandi he says sarcastic shit like that all the time but it's the god damn smirk he has on his face when I glance back at him. "You won't have to deal with the err smell much longer I almost got it," I set the baggie ontop of some homework that was probably due today and reach for the bong sitting on the far corner of my desk.

  
"So much for a secret stash huh." Gandhi walks under my arm and hops up ontop of my desk. He holds the bag of weed before plying with it and looking up at me with puppy dog eyes. I know exactly what he wants and I couldn't agree more so I start to speak. "Ok one more kiss but we really have to get going soo-" I'm interrupted by a curious Gandhi looking not at my eyes but rather something behind me? I turn my head to glance back but I'm stopped by a small hand reaching for my neck and pushing my head to turn the other way. I could easily overpower him but I comply, confused but intrigued nonetheless. His hand touches the side of my neck with his fingers and thumb holding a long peice of my hair. (not the hair)   
  
"It's gotten kinda long in the back." Gandhi appears to be talking to me but his focus is on the mini mullet behind my head. My focus is there too but not at my hair, just his touch. Everything in me wants to grab his hand, place it on the desk and get the fuck back downstairs to the others. (it's been too long right? god it feels like hours but I know it's only been what minutes?)   
  
Gandhi's fingers move once more combing through the back of my hair lightly. He makes a hum of satisfaction running hand through the short length in the back and twisting my hair around his fingers. "mm I kinda like it. A tiny mullet for such a big dude." Gandhi is lost in focus and I'm lost in pleasure. I've never had someone touch my hair like this, not Cleo, not Ponce, no one it's my only rule and Gandhi knows it. It could've started as a tease but he's distracted by it now, but dammit so am I, I'm going to melt in his arms if Gandhi keeps this up. He gets more rough now, pushing all four fingers into my scalp and running them the opposite way, slightly up towards the top of my head. "You used to have this buzzed short." As Gandhi finishes his sentence he does it again. This time apon returning his fingers back toward my neck Gandhi does the same thing but grabbing my hair and pulling it a bit to straighten it back out. It feels much to good the second time and I let out a low moan by mistake.   
  
I suprise my self unbeknownst to this pleasure zone that is my hair. My eyes go wide and the blood rushes to my cheek (and to my dick but we'll deal with one problem at a time). I immediately regret what came out of my mouth. I don't even have time to look at Gandhi, not that I need to because I know exactly what he's about to do with this information. Make fun of me. He giggles and I Iet out a sigh preparing for the bombarding of jokes about this new kink of mine (that I didn't even know I had, until now I suppose). But instead he doesn't speak at all. With one fluid motion he runs his hand further up the back of my head, grabbing as much hair as he can and pulling back, hard. I let out a loud moan.   
  
Gandhi has both punched me and slapped me in the face (and in one occasion the ass, he got a black eye for that one) but this was unexpected. This time however I was the one being unpredictable too. (a moan?? a loud fucking moan for someone pulling your hair??? God am I really such a fucking sissy) My hand freezes around the glass bong I completely forgot about and the rest of my body tenses. My throat goes dry and my face goes flush. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife but instead of doing something about this I just stand there for seconds, my brain empty and my heart practically flatlined. Gandhi was stuck in place as well, his humorous demeanor vanished and replaced with sweat on his forehead in anticipation and probably fear of what would happen next. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long and is so short!!! I'm having data and wifi problems also I've been busy with school but thank you to all the readers! I'm glad people enjoy my awful writing


	4. Uh Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandhi and jfk get interupted :(

The distant sound of footsteps downstairs in the kitchen shoot through my ears. Heavy footsteps now approaching the stairs ignite a terror in me. My eyes dart back from the door (open of course, shit) I look to Gandhi for what to do. His pupils are tiny spots in an ocean of panic. For seconds we stand face to face, our brains still attempting to comprehend the impending doom.

Gandhi's mouth opens for a moment and just like that the silence is broken. "Oh fuck Oh fuck. Who is it? Did they hear you? What if they did? What are we doing? Okay Okay we uh just have to make up something. Yeahyouwereuhwellyoufellyesandumyoulandedonyourfunnyboneanduh-" I clasp a hand around his mouth and attempt to be the voice of reason. 

"Er Uh." Doubt floods my mind. Before the trillions of thoughts firing through my brain can form a coherent plan the steps get louder and another pair of feet seem to be following faster behind. We stare back at eachother again. I take a deep shaky breath in and out, I can only manage to force one sentence out of my mouth. "Follow my lead." 

  
  


Now, in absolutely any other situation that would be a confident, reassuring, sexy ass (not me still being horny what the fuck), sentence. In this situation however, after making out, finding a new kink, and finally my voice cracking the slightest bit at the end, it's none of those things. At All. (god how long have we even been gone? It can't be longer than 5 minutes right? Right?) I find my last ounce of composure and scramble to make a plan. Checking the clock above my door lets me know that me and Gandhi have been gone for almost 10 minutes. (Fuck.) 

  
  


I bend over and throw open my second desk drawer. Gandhi's legs quickly move out of the way so I can do so but his eyes are laser focused on the doorway. (I really wish I hadn't left it open) My eyes dart back and forth between the doorway and the bottom of my drawer as my sweaty palms fumble for bandaids. I'm not entirely sure why I'm grabbing them but it sounds appropriate in my head. At last the footsteps arrive and a tall figure stands slightly outside my room. Abe. His head peaks past my doorway and scans my bedroom for a second before gazing a confused look on Gandhi first then me. Before he can open his mouth to question us the second pair of feet finish up the stairs and a breathless Joan appears behind Abe. She looks like she's about to say sorry but upon looking at me and Gandhi Joan gets the same confused look as Abe, almost comically so. I grip the band-aids tighter in my right hand and my left grasps my pants. Gandhi sits still on top of my desk and waits so he can "follow my lead". In fact, I can feel all three patient eyes waiting a second for me to speak. A bead of sweat cascades down the side of my head then I begin to talk. 

  
  


"God I know! Sorry it took so long this goofb- er idot slipped and fell and hurt his wris-" A whining Gandhi interrupts before I can finish "YeAh! My head oh my head!," He says both hands grasping at the sides of his head. I grit my teeth "Uh yeah his er uh head." Before he makes another over exaggerated groan of pain I give him a look. He seems to get the memo because he stops grabbing his head. "Ah yeah but it's better now thanks to JFK. Yep Yep he helped me and I feel allll better now!" Gandhi puts on a fake smile as Abe rushes to his side. He gives me a look up and down before nodding as to thank me. (No way he actually believed this shit) I almost allow myself a laugh of relief. "You sure you're ok man?" Abe says to Gandhi as he kneels to get a good look at his friend. Joan walks in my bedroom before giving me one last sorry look. I give her a casual wave attemping to asure her that it wasn't her fault. Meanwhile I'm still panicking in my head. 

After a bit more quiet chatting between Gandhi, Abe, and Joan (god even she believed it) I attempt to unsuspiciously place the useless bandaid prop next to Gandhi. Pretending to lean my arm on the wooden desk. Unfortunately, Abe interrupts. (Of course) "And the bandaids? What were those for?" He says it almost jokingly but I hear a hint of suspicion in his voice. I attempt to answer but once again I'm a bit (that's an understatement) panicked. I mean fuck I don't even know why I have him. I decide to go the stupid route with this one. "I er uh didn't know if he was er bleeding or not I guess not heh." He seems to genuinely believe me but either way someone interrupts. 

It's Cleo. She hesitates for a moment before entering my bedroom and being met with stares. "What? It was creepy as fuck down there alone. Besides are we gonna smoke or not because I can go home right now." Quickly Abe leaves Gandhi's side and rushes to Cleo. He attempts to explain what I assume Gandhi told him what happened but she stops him. "Cool cool, babe I really don't care what they were doing up here, hell I wouldn't even care if they were doing each other just as long as they could wrap it up in ten." I turn a light shade of red. wishing that's exactly what me and him were doing. Cleo walks around the mess of my room, a look of disgust plastered on her face. Abe follows her to my bed like a puppy follows its owner. She pulls my sheet taut, making it all neat, before plopping herself in the middle and pulling Abe on to the bed with her. "So are gonna smoke pot or?" Joan shrugs and takes a seat next to Cleo on the carpet and against my bedside. 

  
  


I look over to Gandhi who's already preparing the bong. He eagerly grabs a lighter from his pocket. I let out an exasperated sigh of relief, thankful that it didn't turn out as bad as it could've been. I'm somewhat thankful for Abe and Joan's interruption as well but something tells me Gandhi won't simply forget something like that. I'm not sure I can forget it myself (unfortunately). Gandhi hops off the desk with ease and takes a seat next to me so that everyone is arranged in a circle. He places the bong and lighter on the floor, "Soo who's up first I guess?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes once again this took forever! Sorry I've been very stressed and my obsessions with stuff fluctuate lol 
> 
> also 420 readers,, nice


	5. Love over Logic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took five chapters but they're actually going to smoke in this one lmao but yes 
> 
> content warning for smoking pot/drug use

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smgmkskf I tried being more discriptive and shit hopefully ya like it

We all exchange glances to one another, before Cleo rolls her eyes and reaches her arm out towards me. Her fingers curl in and out from her palm, indicating for me to hand it over. "God you all are a bunch of pussies, can't even decide who goes first," she scoffs. I hand Cleo the bong and her acrylic nails snatch the lighter from my hand. She leans her weight back down onto the bed. Cleo smokes like she's done it a hundred times before, and granted, she has. Memories of me and her smoking pot together rush into my mind. Snapshots of Cleo snuggled up against me on the same bed she's sitting at now make my heart sting the smallest bit. I shake the thoughts off easily now and am instead reminded of a couple nights ago. 

Gandhi was nestled into me, we were watching a movie on my phone. I don't entirely remember much of the movie, I was too focused on the warmth in my heart (as cheesy as that sounds). It was the first time I'd felt comfortably happy in a while. Not like full grin happy fun time happy but that kind of content feeling where you feel like you're exactly where you're supposed to be. We'd had nights like this before but nonetheless I felt this way. I felt like it was different. I wouldn't trade it for the world and ended up falling asleep with Gandhi entangled in my arms. 

I was snapped out of my reminiscing with the  _ flick  _ of a lighter. The bong had been passed to Abe. He was sloppy and fumbled with just about everything, the exact opposite compared to the trained hands of Cleo. It's not like Abe hadn't done this a couple times, sure he wouldn't be able to do it as well as Cleo but still it seemed he got worse each time. I chuckled to myself, relaxing slightly. I hadn't realized how tense I was before, it felt good to recover even the slightest bit after that stressful situation. 

Abe choked, a gray cloud flew into the air as he coughed up smoke. Everyone laughed slightly at that and Joan, who decided against smoking, per usual, passed the bong to Gandhi. Abe quickly regained composure attempting to act nonchalant after hearing us chuckle. Cleo's rigid posture slouched and loosened as she moved closer to Abe. She let out a sigh, now sitting on the edge of his thigh. Cleo propped her legs across his. Abe settled in a bit and skooched back from his previous position at the very edge of my bed. (Abe and Cleo make a weird pair). Her muscular and thicker legs contrasted the boney slender man. She was strong, he was weak but nonetheless they seemed happy. Maybe that was the weed, maybe not.

My eyes move to Gandhi, he's wiping off the bong from Abe. It really shouldn't be as hot as it is but I couldn't help but melt at the sight of the sea of smoke blowing out from Gandhi's lips. The smoke curled and wrapped into complex waves and ridges before dissipating into the room. His head turned to look at me and give me a lopsided grin. I took the bong from Gandhi, ready to forget, even for a moment, the embarrassing anxiety ridden instances not too long ago. Part of me hoped Gandhi would do the same. Another part of me hoped he wouldn't.

It went around like this for a while, Abe coughing less each time around our little circle. The tension in the room melted away more with each dissolving cloud of smoke. Small conversations are exchanged then forgotten moments later but overall everything has been quiet but chill. I liked it like that. Cleo, Gandhi, and Abe helped me piece together the party I had passed out at a few hours ago. From what I'm hearing it was fun? Their exaggerated mindless stories of drunk me detailed the events from a couple hours ago. Maybe it's the weed talking but I believe them, I've done lots of weird things at parties. Therefore Joan's story of me eating at  _ least _ two cans of that fake spray cheese shit sounds reasonable. Me vomiting up orange sounds about right as well. Their stories portray me as being typical JFK, life of the party, hottest guy in all of clone high. (okay I may have thought of the last part myself but it's probably what everyone was thinking). I remember most of what they're saying I guess. I just never seem to remember if I was actually as happy as I seemed to everyone else. At most parties I'm not sure I really feel much at all, I mean I act fun and everyone sees me as happy I suppose. At my most exciting stunts, jokes, and partying (aka when me and everyone are completely fucking wasted) I hardly have enough thoughts to decide if I'm really feeling happy, in the moment it's all impulse. The booze take over and I'm just there for the ride. (Is it supposed to be any different? Other people laugh and have fun so that's all that really matters right?) 

Gandhi pokes his finger into my cheek. "Yooo you good? Heheh you've been like mumbling to yourself for a couple minutes heh." His speech is slurred and his voice trails off. I become alert, worried the others noticed my unusual behavior. From the chattering of Abe Cleo, and Joan it seems it was just Gandhi. I don't answer his question, his small fingers still lazily poke at the side of my face. I wrap my own fingers around his pointer finger and slowly move his limp hand back towards his own face. As I move Gandhi's finger closer to his nose his eyes cross, his glasses make Gandhi's wide eyes seem larger than life, giving him a cartoonish expression. I laugh. A loud obnoxious laugh that makes my stomach ache and eyes tear up. For a couple seconds it's just me laughing a genuine laugh with hints of sadness but bundles of love. I tug at my own sweater and Gandhi joins in. At first it is more of a quiet chuckle but it quickly builds to a snorting gut wrenching laugh. Before long we're hanging onto each other for dear life. We topple over on the carpet rolling around like animals and sounding like them too. It goes on like this for a couple minutes while the others are mostly silent. Perhaps our laughing is just drowning out theirs, I'm not sure and I don't particularly care. No matter, this feels unbelievably good. My mind is cleared of any bad thoughts just like that. (in fact what was I even on about again?). 

Me and Gandhi catch our breaths. The noise dies down and now it's just me and him laying there. Our bodies are slightly curled up from our aching stomach. For a while it seems like it's just us. It's only a couple seconds but I focus my eyes on his face and concentrate. I want to remember every part of this moment. I scan his face, taking in the way my yellow desk light creates honey colored highlights across the grooves of his round face. Gandhi's earing shimmers just as much as the toothy grin he gives me. His glasses are slightly crooked from the messy tumbling around like a bunch of high idot's (that's exactly what we are I guess). Beneath his eyes are dark circles that come with being a restless teen like himself. (I really wish he got more sleep). More prominent than the dark circles are the smile lines. I don't remember what I could've done to make him laugh this hard but then again I'm not sure why I laughed in the first place. Perhaps it was because no matter what I feel, no matter what happens, whether as boyfriends or friends I know that I'll always be able to count on that smile. 

I kiss him.

Time had slowed down. My hand didn't seem to have been in control and it moved towards his cheek. My thumb took a moment to rub across the side of his face where his cheek curved a moment ago making room for his big smile. His face now wore a relaxed grin. I looked into his deep brown eyes, they shined like sweet maple and the whites of his eyes were colored a pale pink by the weed. His pupils were big. I heard somewhere that only happens when you're in love with someone. (If that's the case I wonder how black my eyes were then). I don't think I had a single coherent thought (clearly, because if I had I wouldn't have kissed him). In the couple seconds I just felt warm, like I just had to kiss him. Like there was no other way out I was a magnet naturally compelled towards him even if it was possibly the worst thing I could've done. But fuck I didn't think something so dumb could feel so amazing. Unfortunately, love won over logic and by the time I pull away from his lips time resumes. I kissed him. And now that I'm back in the present I have to deal with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy FuCk um ignore how long this chapter took hahah but fr sorry everyone!! Thank you everyone for reading


	6. Swaying in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit goes down.. enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //TW//: lots of negative self talk, anxiety/panic attack, as well as the f-slur (told ya'll shit goes down)

(There's people around, I shouldn't of- I can't- my friends, Cleo, Abe oh fuck fuck.) An already shaking hand removes itself from Gandhi's cheek. I'm not even out yet to anyone but Joan and Gandhi, obviously, and now, well now Cleo and Abe just probably (definitely) saw me kiss my friend Gandhi. Lord knows the news will be practically plastered on the walls of Clone High once Monday rolls around. Thanks to Cleo the truth will be spread like wildfire. I can tell them off as rumors but the damage will be done. I'm done for. My classmates, my friends at school and my popularity status all flushed down the fucking toilet. (Because I "just had to'' kiss him. God I fucking hate myself.) 

To say I was freaking out would be an understatement. A good trip just turned into the worst one of my life (ok maybe I'm exaggerating, then again my life might be over.) My vision focuses back into reality to see a smitten Gandhi looking like he's in heaven. His face, his eyes, his body doesn't have a smidge of fear. Not even the slightest anxiety. My brain is confused for a moment (does he not know what Abe and Cleo just saw?). Turns out he does. 

Gandhi sits up. He faces them and gives a shug at the bemused faces of Cleo and Abe. They're silent. Even Joan doesn't seem to know what to say. My brain couldn't comprehend a single thing about how Gandhi's brain works if my life depended on it. Not after dating him for months and especially not now. The silence seems to last a lifetime. The first to break it are Abe and Cleo who, in sync, just let out a befuddled "woah." Gandhi replies with a grin. Then, a now slightly nervous, chuckle. "Well that's that I guess-" (that's that? That's fucking that?! My- my everything is on the line and thats all he fucking says?) I'm almost offended by the causality of Gandhi's words. Before anyone can say anything more I stand up in a panic. Maybe too much of a panic because my hungover high body wobbles left and right. I almost fall trying make my way out. (I have to get out, I have to I have to, fuck fuck fuck..) I look like a Frankenstein freak quickly dragging my way through the room. Not paying any particular attention to my surroundings I knock over the bong in the center of the room, spilling its contents onto my floor. In a slurred attempt of an apology I manage to throw up the words "sorry, I- I er get uh gotta go.." Hearing myself stumble and stutter gives my body motivation to move faster. 

My face is hot and the corners of my eyes start to form tears. My hand grasps at the side of the doorway, holding on for dear life. My throat catches and heaves for air. I swear someone must be choking me. My stomach does gymnastics as my heart runs a marathon above. God I feel like throwing up. The last thing I hear comes to me like a quiet echo. "Jfk? Jfk wait." I don't know who says it but I don't hear footsteps following me down the stairs. Sweaty palms tighten around the railing next to my stairs. I avoid looking down at my feet because when I do the carpeted steps seem to warp to curve around my foot. I make it to the front door, eventually. 

Everything around me is slightly blurred, making the urge to puke much worse. Bad enough for me to throw open my door just to get outside. Every bone in my body hopes that the night air will calm me. Yet I still gasp, the night around me still remains blurred, and my thoughts still overwhelm me. I throw up. I cough every last bit of old pizza and food over the guardrail of my front porch, into the bushes below. My knees then give out and I collapse into a sitting position onto the steps. (There's too many thoughts, too many, too much, stop, stop,) I scream out. A croaking, voice cracking, on the verge of tears scream. (what's happening to me.) Part of me wants to drive away. But my body's persistent and I shakily fumble with my keys. After a frustratingly stupid attemp to hit the unlock button I throw them into my front lawn, letting out another angry yell. My breaking point has been hit. Hit by a thousand screaming knives and the blood now oozes out through my eyes in the form of wet, salty, sobs. 

My nails grasp at my hair. (how could I, why did I, why, why, why) "WHY AM I A- a FUCKING FAG..got…" I let out a soft, somewhat deranged, laugh in-between sobs. My heartbeat no longer rings in my ears so now I sit in silence. Well mostly. My sniffles and sobs are still much louder than I'm used to. I can't remember the last time I've cried at all. Fuck. (Everything I think makes no sense. What am I doing. Why did I-) finally I stop thinking. (Back to being numb.) I wipe the wet tears off my face and fix my hair for nobody but myself. The intricate plan of leaving and going fuck knows where is thrown out the window. I give up. I want to cry again but the creek of my front door opening stops me. 

I don't have to look to know that it's Gandhi. He sits next to me, stiff and still. I don't know how long its been or what he told them up stairs. The infinite possibilities start up my heart and brain like pulling the string of an old lawn mower. Gandhi must have noticed the quickening pace of my breath and he scoots next to me. His silent behavior indicates how unsure he is to approach the current situation. I'm unsure too. Unsure about everything and questioning it all as well. I still don't look up. I stay laser focused on the dark circles of my tears embedded into the concrete. Anything to keep my mind off of, well, everything. I can feel Gandhi's arm hover over my back, he's so close to embracing me. The tensing of my shoulders stops him. Part of me wishes he would've done it anyways and all of me misses his touch but none of me wants to admit that. I finally look up to Gandhi's fidgeting fingers and decide to focus on that. He must have felt my gaze because part of him pirks up. His fidgeting becomes less harmful. Instead of tearing at his skin he now rubs it nervously. My hands return to the sides of my head as I let out a long sigh. 

Gandhi folds over, lowering his head and turning his eyes, attempting to meet mine. He doesn't succeed. For the minute he looks at me I instinctively avoid his gaze, just to return to studying his expressions after his eyes stop searching for mine. Gandhi lets out his own, more shallow, sigh before attempting to speak. "They- Abe and Cleo I mean, well obviously they're the only ones who-.... t-they know.. About us I mean." I bite my lips, hard, in order to not let a single tear escape. "B-but they're cool with it! I mean Abe is a litte,uh, surprised? I guess ha. More by you then-... I should stop talking now." Gandhi scratches the back of his head and surprisingly enough I hear a sniffle of his own. His voice sounds like he's about to cry now. "T-that's good though right? right? I- I mean we won't have to be sneaky n shit anymore. Unless you find that like uh kink-.. ha um anyways fuck..y-ou okay?" Silence, then Gandhi's voice goes soft. He almost sounds like he's pleading to me. "Cleo and Abe say they'd keep it a secret but I thought maybe we could finally tell the whole school?" He must've noticed my brows furrow at that so he changes his mind in a snap. "O-or just some people first if yo-" Mindless frustration returns to me and I cut him off. 

"An-" I clear the sadness from my throat. "And why would I er want to do that?" My hands ball up to fists and return to my sides. Still I look back towards the ground afraid to show my tear stained face. 

"Well I- no" Gandhi's voice hardens slightly and he too clears his throat. "I- I thought you would be proud of our relationship. I know you kept you and Ponce's relationship a secret but that was a long time ago. We've been dating for a couple months I- I don't know I guess I just thought this would be different." His voice softens again and he looks down in defeat. 

"Oh for the love of- seriously er uh Gandhi!? Bringing Ponce into this!" I stand up at last, feeling the anger in me begin to bubble over. "W-why would I be proud of this? Why!?" 

"Be-because I thought you fucking loved me!.. Or was I just another sick joke to make you feel loved again a-after you threw away everyone who liked you?.. Or? Or? Was I just a little S-SLOW BURN FUCK EXPERIMENT FOR YOU!?" He points a finger at me and Gandhi stands up looking up to finally meet my eyes. He gazes at me with a look of pure rage but the tears at the corners of his eyes and the slight trembling of his lip tell a different story. 

Gandhi's face meeting mine soften the edge to my anger for a moment. It's quickly washed over however once I process exactly what he said. Again, I lash out in anger "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! I HAVEN'T 'THROWN' A FUCKIN THING AWAY AND Y-OU er KNOW IT. Cleo and me broke up on our own terms and Ponce? D- Do you think I er uh just, t-threw him away??" I'm a step away from crying big time tears but my anger holds them in for now. "Oh and for fucks sake Gandhi get your head out of your ass not everything's about you. You're not a little 'fucking experiment' of mine." I chuckle and rub my fingers on my forehead. Mumbling, "seriously what the hell goes on in that head of yours?..." I exhale a long shaky breath and grab at my face hoping to hide the sadness that now stings my heart. (did I really make him feel that way? Fuck what did I just say? I'm an awful person.. an awful boyfriend) 

After a moment of silence Gandhi speaks again. I'm too afraid to look but by the sound of his voice it sounds like he's crying. Guilt hits me like a truck. "I- I don't know what's going on in my head really.." He tries to cover up his sniffling with a sad laugh. (yep I made him cry fuck fuck fuc-) "I know I'm not your silly little experiment, I mean I'm like ninety percent sure." He mumbles the last part but the pain of him even questioning hurts my heart like a bitch. "And I'm sorry about bringing up.." 

"I-is er uh it's okay. I uh know you didn't mean it." I interrupt Gandhi with a mumble, just wanting the conversation to move past it as quickly as possible. 

"Still though I'm.. I'm sorry I didn't mean for it to feel like I was pressuring you I know it was dumb of me to expect you to want to.. to be proud of us…. I'm sorry." His voice trails off at the end but I hear everything said and unsaid. And boy does it hurt but boy do I probably (definitely) deserve it. Gandhi's full on crying now. He quickly wipes each tear away and attempts to stifle his sobs before I say anything in response. 

"Gandhi I-" My voice cracks, it comes out weak and soft but I cough and move on. "It's all my fault it's all my fault." I hear a quiet disagreement from Gandhi. "I'm sorry er really I am. I just.. everything uh was.. too much it er uh was too too much and I don't know what er happened. It's my fault. I'm just still getting used to you know.." I'm barely making a sound when I speak now. Silent tears slide down my face as I begin to lose it all once again. Until and come up with something better to say I keep whispering under my breath "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The anger I held once before now points back at me. (How could I do this to him? How could I make him cry? I'm such a piece of shit. Asshole. You saying sorry isn't going to make anything better. Anything you say just makes shit worse. Just give up.) My heart rate increases once again, the sickness in my stomach is back, and my racing worries are back with a vengeance.

Gandhi doesn't look up, he just inches closer and awkwardly widens his arms. In a millisecond he's wrapped around me and squeezing tight. His fingers intertwine behind my back and his head shoves onto my chest. I'm unsure if the hug is for me or for him. My clouded thoughts dissipate and the warmth of his head and body against mine comforts me. I can feel every movement of his body. The wetness of his tears against my sweater. His muffled sniffling against my chest. I don't know what to do with all of these feelings. Gandhi's warmth comfort me but his cold tears stab me with guilt making me want to say sorry a hundred times over again. I don't though. 

The power of Gandhi's hug allow my body to finally relax. The fists on my sides slowly unfold. My shoulders drop and my posture slumps. The last thing to relax is my tear ducts and once they do I let out a loud sob. Louder than when I first sat on the front steps. Louder than my yells of frustration. Louder than any sob before. The tears flood out onto my eyes and onto Gandhi's shoulder They quickly form a wet spot on his shirt. I don't cry in front of just anyone but if I do I try my best to make it a clean cry. As pretty as crying can get. But currently, if I wasn't so distracted by releasing sobs into my boyfriend, I'd find myself quite disgusting. The gasps and croaks and cracks of my voice shamelessly release into the night air. Snot runs down my nose despite the disgusting amount of sniffling and sucking in of air I've done. The funny thing is that I can't even pinpoint an exact reason for the tears that effortlessly run down my cheeks but whatever the reason they just won't stop. We sit like that for a long while. My ugly sobbing and Gandhi's quiet cries, swaying together in a dance like state. 

  
  


My throat wrenching crying eventually quiets down into a gentle flowing of tears. Gandhi doesn't let go though and I'm incredibly grateful for that. Quietly I apologize for the last time. Then I say into Gandhi's now wet shoulder "I'm just er uh.. just not uh proud of being.. proud of being me…. you know?" It's such a simple thing to say but I had to force the words out of my mouth. To be completely honest I don't really know who I am. I'm afraid that my worst fear as a highschool hot shot has come true. I don't want to accept myself partly because I know there will be others who don't accept me and people not liking me terrifies me an unhealthy amount. There's a long moment of silence and somehow I feel like Gandhi heard my very thoughts. All he says is "It's okay. I understand and it's okay jfk." His embrace grows stronger and so does mine. We sway to the quiet sounds of night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will continue to apoligize for how long chapters take but this time I have an excuse! New phone lol and my shit didn't save lmao 
> 
> I will also keep thanking people for reading!! So yeah thank you!!! This is kinda the final chapter BUT I'll add on some stuff later (probably) so stay tuned and thanks again ya'll


	7. Calm After the Storm.

Crickets chirp and the gentle brushing of leaves from the night breeze ease me into a tired state. It's peaceful here with Gandhi but I sense that we're both exhausted. Slowly our movement comes to a halt. It's just his weight on mine until Gandhi lifts his head off my chest. I shiver slightly, feeling an empty chill without his comforting lean. Our gazes meet and I see a contentedness to Gandhi's tired eyes. The calm after the storm. We both reach for each other's hands and intertwine our fingers together, a moment so tender it melts my heart has passed. 

I ache to forever be in that serine world where it was just us and the wind that swayed us. A void in my heart was filled but now we have to enter reality and deal with it. At least, at last, we'll be together. 

I bent down weighing myself onto Gandhi and delicately touched my lips to his head for a lazy forehead kiss. Before pulling back I mumbled a quiet thank u. Gandhi nodded and squeezed my hand as if to say, no problem. When we felt ready we both stepped back from each other's embrace. Stepping into a new world but it seemed a lot less scary with Gandhi. Especially with the stupid grin he was giving me. I gave him one back and everything seemed perfect. I was ready. Ready to be myself. That was until we got to the front door. 

In sync me and Gandhi took a deep breath in and out. I grabbed his hand. Pulled him in for a quick kiss and we walked in. Together. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!! Thank you for making it this far and thank you so much for reading. It means the world to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, Comments, Shares, and FANART OMFG ID DIE MDGMMS are greatly appreciated!! <3 
> 
> pls credit when sharing/making fanart tysm


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